Sole Survivor
by The Grinning Psychopath
Summary: Ever wonder if all the CP's were heartless bastards, like the ones we fought in Halflife two? well wonder no more, for in this story. you will find, several CP's at least a little sympathetic to the cause of the Rebels. look i suck at summeries just R
1. Chapter 1

** Disclaimer I own nothing.**

**Deep inside the great black citadel of City 17.**

**Two combine soldiers marched a man dressed in the uniform of the Combine police, down one of the many dark corridors, to the captain of the commander of the CP's of area 17**

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The man was named Randolph Murrington Kreel, more commonly known as Randy he was a gangly sharp featured man, just a shade under six feet, in his late teens, with short blood red hair, bright green eyes, and olive tanned skin.

And he was in deep shit, the reason for this was that he had disobeyed a direct order, to execute a man charged with the simple crime of loitering in the wrong place, and his superior officer, a blocky, dark skinned man in his early thirties. Named Ramirez had berated him for it, and had drawn his pistol to finish off the poor civilian, when Randy in burst of foolishness and altruism. Had knocked out the older man, and allowed the civilian to escape.

Randy looked up as they came within view of the Regional Commander's office, and nearly wet himself when he saw the regional Commander himself standing in front of the door scowling at him.

The Regional Commander was Salvo Barrington Kreel, his uncle.

Salvo was a tall, extremely athletic, wolf like man, who stood an impressive height of sixe foot five inches, in his late thirties, with sharp vicious features that on the rare occasions of when he smiled gave a person the instinct urge to run for the nearest tree.

His hair was ear length straight, and very thick, and very, very black. Faintly threaded with silver at the temples.

But the most wolf like trait he had, were his eyes. His eyes were colored silver, and cold, and cruel.

He was wearing the standard black outfit of a combine regional commander, black combat style boots, black jeans, a black t-shirt, black fingerless gloves, and a black Kevlar-weave trench coat that could keep small arms from penetrating, and all of was loaded with tiny Nano machines that constantly repaired and cleaned the clothing, a luxury that only the most honored Combine officers were allowed.

He nodded at Randy, and looked at the two guards, "you two can go now, I'll take him from here."

The two guards shifted uneasily, "Sergeant Ramirez said weren't to leave his side sir."

Salvo scowled irritated at the soldier, and the soldier took a few steps back, Salvo wasn't the kind of person you wanted irritated with you, indeed he was the kind of person you didn't want to even want to notice you "Did he? Well Sergeant Ramirez isn't the regional commander here, now go, and clean yourselves up, you both smell like you've been traveling the sewers."

He turned back Randy who was glancing around nervously, "In my office." said Salvo in a tone that brooked no argument.

Randy entered his office and was surprised at how small it was.

It was perhaps 15 feet in diameter, with a ceiling that barley accommodated their height, and was sparsely decorated with a wall covered in medals given to Salvo both in his days in the Marines, and in his days as a Combine officer. A large bullet proof window on an other part of the room, showed the sun setting at the west

A Mahogany Desk sat at one corner of the room, with Salvo's blood red leather chair behind it, and a smaller brown leather visitors chair at another corner of the room,

Salvo sat down in his chair, and motioned for Randy to do the same.

Salvo just looked at the squirming Randy for a moment, then sighed, and tried to make his voice as kindly as possible, which was practically impossible for someone who had a voice like gravel  
"look, lad I know for fact that what happened out there wasn't nearly so bad as Ramirez made it out to be, now just relax, and tell me what happened.

Randy swallowed and looked at his hands on the desk, feeling akin to a mosquito caught in a spotlight.

"well uncle it happened like this."

Four hours earlier

Corporal Randolph and Sergeant Ramirez. Were on patrol when Ramirez pointed down an alley and said,

"Hey Randy would you look at that."

Randy looked and saw a tall, wiry, dark haired, man in glasses, and wearing the usual blue outfit. Strolling seemingly aimlessly down the sidewalk

"what about him?' Randy asked bemused.

"he's Loitering in a non Loitering sector, a crime punishable by a severe beating." Randy heard the undertone of wickedness in the older man's voice despite it being garbled by the mask, and knew that the unlucky civilian would be lucky to get away alive, Ramirez was well known for his cruelty.

"can't we just let him off with a warning?" Randy asked uneasily. Ramirez turned to him, and he knew that the older man was grinning at him, "Now where would the fun be in that."

"You citizen stop!" Ramirez shouted at the civilian, and the unlucky civilian, turned and ran.

"After him!" shouted Ramirez and they chased after him.

*smart son of bitch, hope his fast too* thought Randy as they chased the man down an alley.

The man was fast, but not fast enough, Randy wasn't nearly as big as Ramirez in the muscle department, but he was faster, much faster.

He caught up to the Civilian in no time at all and slammed him into the wall, eliciting a cry of pain from the man, and spun him around to face him, and shoved his service pistol into the man's face

"good work Randy!" panted Ramirez as he caught up to them.

He clapped Randy on the shoulder, and said "now because you caught him, I will give you the honor of executing the man yourself."

Randy looked at him shocked. "But why, what happened to just giving him a beating?"

"Oh don't you know Randy, evading justice from an officer of the law, is a charge punishable by Death!" he laughed as he said this.

Randy looked back at the man under the barrel of his gun who was looking strangely calm, under the circumstances. Then back to Ramirez. "No." he finally said.

"What?" said Ramirez as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Which was probably the case.

"I said no, this man hasn't done anything wrong, he's just doing what everybody else does." Randy pulled his gun away from the man and put it back in its holster.

"Randolph Murrington Kreel! As your superior officer I order you to execute that man!" shouted Ramirez.

"Go take your order and shove it where the sun doesn't shine sir." said Randy getting angry.

"Randy damn it, if your uncle wasn't the Regional Commander I'd shoot you for that, as it is when we get back I'm gonna have you I'm gonna have you washing toilets for a month when we get back, now step aside so I can shoot that fucker."

Ramirez raised his pistol, "NO!" Randy shouted and without thinking he stepped forward, drew his stun baton, and rammed it into Ramirez's ribs.

Ramirez dropped like a rock.

Randy looked back at the dark haired man, "GO!" he half screamed, motioning the man to run, "Thank you." he said before he turned and ran.

Randy looked at the retreating man stunned, *Did that guy actually just apologize to me, ME A COMBINE COP! Well alright I did save his life but still* these were Randy's last thoughts, before Ramirez who had recovered surprisingly quickly even for CP with all the special healing implants. Stood up, and brought his Stun Baton down on the back of his head.

Salvo Barrington Kreel looked at his Nephew feeling that familiar old headache of frustration coming on, and sighed.

"Okay this is bad Randy, not as bad as Ramirez made it out to be, but not by much, I can keep you from getting a death sentence, but I am going to be expected to deliver some sort of punishment, if I don't I could be seen as unfit for the position of Regional Commander, and other officers might get ideas about who should be running things around here, the Animals.

Randy felt his mouth go dry and he had to fight to keep from passing out, if his Uncle was replaced by someone else, someone less Lenient, someone like Ramirez things could go in a bad way. "What," he swallowed "what punishment did you have in mind?" he asked

"I was thinking about setting you on patrol by the ocean, where all the Antlions are getting riled up, with some of your friends, like Wayne, and Preacher."

Randy felt like the floor had fallen out from under him and he was now falling, Patrolling by the OCEAN! That was as good as a death sentence, Spawning season for the Antlions was nearly upon them and they were really grouchy around spawning season.

Salvo smiled as kindly as possible, and Randy shivered not immune to the effect it had on people, "Don't worry Randolph, I know what I'm doing its not as bad as It sounds out there, and contrary to common belief Antlions are not ten foot tall bullet proof monstrosities, they in fact are quite vulnerable,"

"And while spawning season may be near, as long as you stay off the sand over there you should be perfectly fine. Now go get some sleep your gonna need it, oh and tell please inform Sergeant Briggs that if he doesn't start tossing his cigars into the Trash can like everyone else, he's gonna be cleaning out the drunk tank for a year."

Randy nodded dumbly before standing up, and exiting the office, and wondered whether or not it was too late to take up religion like preacher had.

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**Reviews please, Many, Many Reviews.**


	2. Chapter 2

Salvo Barrington Kreel sighed and lit a Cigar, and puffed on it a few times before turning to address the gray suited figure standing just behind him.

"Are you sure it has to be him?" he asked.

"Certain, I have reviewed his record, and it has to be him who… unleassshes our mutual friend upon the world."

Salvo glared up at him, "why does it have to be him, why can't you just let him out yourself?"

The G-Man smiled his cold smile, and straightened his tie before answering

"Because the necessary energy required has been depleted in waking up the other one.

Salvo's blood ran cold, "You mean-" he couldn't bring himself to finish.

"yessss he has been awakened, and is currently causing quite a bit of trouble for your forces, get your nephew and his friends out of city 17 soon, and I would also suggest that you issue them the new… prototype Hard contact Body armor." Salvo paled,

"unofficially of course, no need to draw attention to yourself anymore than absolutely necessssary."

"But the Hard Contact Body armor hasn't even been tested yet, there are only seven suits of it, Doctor Breen would surly notice if it was missing."

"Oh no need to worry about that, I have several bombs in place, ready and… waiting to go off, they have been experimenting with some highly explosive materials there, it would sssurprise absolutely no one… if there wasss to be some sort of highly devastating explosion there."

"what about assistance with the suits, I don't know much about them, aside from the fact that once their on they inject nano machines into user's body that constantly repair him, but other than that, and the fact that their supposed to be quite comfortable and flexible, I know nothing."

"Not to worry, I have a special group of scientistsss here that can issue the team, their armor, and inform them how to use it, their leader, is a man, you know quite well. I believe he is often referred to by his fellow scientistsss and by otherss that know him asss… The Grinning Psychopath. But keep in mind that we are on the clock here, and so we must hurry, if we are to do this."

Salvo sighed, and turned back to his desk, he then opened a hidden drawer in the desk, and drew out a picture of a tall, fair, sweetly pretty, red headed women.

And of a tall dark haired man, who aside from having a blue eyes instead of silver, could have been Salvo's clone. With his arms around the woman And smiled wistfully at the picture, "you know I promised her I'd keep that boy safe, that I'd protect him no matter what," Salvo looked up into the gray suited figure's cold reptilian eyes.

"You had better do everything in your power to make sure that Randolph gets out of this alive and well, if he doesn't… I'm gonna have to start looking for ways to kill you."

The Gray suited figure nodded, and vanished right into thin air, there wasn't a thing to suggest that he'd even been there in the first place, as if he'd never even existed.

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The next day was fairly usual for Corporal Randy, with the exception that, everyone was avoiding him, he could guess why.

Ramirez upon learning that Randy was not to be immediately executed had thrown a hissy fit to end all hissy fits, and no one wanted to get in his way when he saw Randolph.

Randy had just gotten his food from the dispenser and was looking for table to sit down in, When someone with a distinct Scottish accent shouted "Hey Randy over here, hurry!" he turned around and saw Corporal Jameson Haze motioning for him to get over to his table,

Upon seeing the frantically waving man, Randy did as requested and hurried over. Corporal Jameson Haze, was a narrow featured Scotsman, pale, in his early forties, with brown eyes, spiked up brown hair, height five feet eight inches, weighing around 137 pounds.

He wore rather unusual clothes, least they were unusual in this day and age, brown jeans, brown shirt, a battered brown leather jacket, the usual Black combat boots, of combine soldiers, and horn rimmed glasses.

The reason for of which he did not wear blue civilian outfits like the rest of them, was that he was an engineer, and engineers got privileges in the combine, just so long as what they wanted didn't interfere in their work.

The reason of which Jameson had joined the combine, was pretty simple, his younger sister Amy had been suffering from bone cancer some years ago, and in return for his service, the combine had used some of their nanotech to cure her of the cancer. And after it had been established that he wasn't about to go run off directly after they cured her, they did as requested, and his sister now lived somewhere along the coast no one knew where for sure but Jameson had a pretty good guess where.

"Hurry the fuck up man and get hell down," Haze said motioning Randy to his side, "its not a good time to be you Randy, Ramirez is furious, and wants your head on stick for what you did to him."

"Not surprising I suppose." said Randy Glumly

"For Fucks sake man! Why'd you do it, Why in the name of all that is holy, would you go and beat someone like Ramirez nearly to death, for some rebel!"

Randy looked up at him Sharply "What! I didn't do that, I just jabbed my stun baton into his stomach, and let a poor civilian go free!"

"Not according to what Ramirez said, he said that you and him came across a confirmed rebel, and just when he was about to execute the rebel scum, you jammed your stun baton right into the back of his head, and proceeded to beat him senseless, and it that it was only the timely intervention of two of our fellow CPs that stopped you from killing him!"

Randy's jaw dropped at the sheer outrageousness of that story. He quickly shut his mouth and glared about him searching for something of which to vent his outrage upon.  
Jameson saw the look in his friend's eyes and gripped Randy's hand in his somewhat smaller one, and did something complicated and painful.

Randy gasped in pain and surprise and blinked away tears of pain.

"Don't even think about it Randy, your Uncle is pulling a whole mess of strings already, if you kill Ramirez I really don't think it will help him get you out of sight of the Combine Investigators."

Randy's blood temperature went down a few degrees at the mention of Combine Investigators.

They were specially trained, specially augmented people with steel plates grafted onto their bones, and nanotech to help keep them alive and submissive, that would also make them practically immortal for as long as the Combine needed them, as soon as the Combine ran out of uses for them, their nanotech would rapidly disintegrate the bodies of the investigators, and metal Skeletons would just fall to pieces.

The Investigators were used primarily as spies to route out all the traitors in the Combine, and god help anybody who turned out to be a traitor for the punishment of treachery was usually to be made into a mindless stalker, if the traitor had been particularly naughty, then the traitor would have the horrible experience of not only becoming a stalker, but living as one as well, there weren't many who had received either of these punishments, but there were enough that virtually no one had any lasting thoughts about helping out the resistance.

"Investigators, they're looking into me?" asked Randy disbelief clear in his tone.

"oh yes Lad," said Jameson nodding rather emphatically "they're picking over all your activities with a fine tooth comb, and you'd better pray that they don't find anything that could confirm you of being a rebel, hell I'd better pray that they don't find anything of you as well, cause if they do the very first thing they do will be to investigate me as well."

Jameson looked at him curiosity in his gaze, "So by the way you reacted I'm guessing that Ramirez's version of what happened is for the most part false?"

Randy nodded,

"So what really happened?" he asked

Randy told him.

"Hells fucking bells man!" he cried

"What the fuck do you think your doing when you go around pulling off shit like that!"

"It wasn't right Haze, I mean the guy was just going out for walk, he probably didn't even know he wasn't supposed to be there at that time, with all the shit, we put in the water it's a surprise the guy even knew to run when he did."

"Still, I thought I warned you about trying to pull that hero crap back when we first met, We can only hope that Ramirez doesn't lose it entirely and decide to go against Salvo wishes, and try and have you killed."

"You worry too much old man." said a laid back sounding, slightly gravelly western accented voice.

They both turned to see Wayne Decardo and his sister Jennifer Decardo, strolling towards them, Wayne's arm around her slim waist, and the short solemn figure of Preacher trailing behind them.

Wayne looked like he could have been Jameson's clone, except for the fact that he was a full inch taller, three years younger, and being built more athletically.

He was also quite infamous among the combine for being a trickster, he sprung all sorts of nasty surprises on people, practically every day,

Ramirez had once made a rather pointed comment about what kind of relationship Wayne had, had with his father, the next week, a few minutes before he was supposed to give a speech to boost the morale of the PCs someone had apparently spiked his food and drink, with an impossibly large dose of Marijuana.

But none of this was found out until after he had gotten onto the stage, and blabbed away most of his entire life, and apologized to every person he had ever wronged.

Everyone knew it had been Wayne who had spiked his food, none of them could prove anything but they knew, Ramirez had of course been furious at him afterwards, but hadn't done anything against him otherwise, least not since Wayne held up a sound recorder and played something he'd recorded on it,

No one knew for sure what had been on nifty little device, but whatever it was, it'd been enough to keep Ramirez off his back, and settle for merely glaring at him.

His sister Jennifer Decardo was taller than him by a whole three inches, pale skinned, with fiery red hair, eyes the color of freshly polished emeralds, she was built like the proverbial brick house, with a killer figure.

She also more commonly known as Jennifer psycho, because she was bloodthirsty maniac, really, she once took on a whole dozen of Zombie Howlers armed with nothing but a combat knife, she scared the living hell out of everyone, except her brother, and Salvo.

Salvo because he was even more deadly in combat then her as he had proven more than once during the Seven hour war when he had been on the side of the resistance, fighting against the Combine, it was said that if their had been just 16 more of him, that they would have kicked the Combine right back where they came from, crying to their mothers.

And the reasons of why Wayne wasn't scared of her, were pretty simple. Reason one he was her brother,

Reason two their father had given her strict orders to preserve his life no matter what.

And Reason Three which was the simplest reason of all. He was fucking her.

Preacher was a small somewhat harmless looking figure except for his eyes, his gray bloodshot eyes, had wild gleam to them that said that he was most likely insane.

he stood just couple inches over five feet, he was in his early to mid twenties, scrawny, with ear length severely straight dark brown hair, (Think of Chase off House MD's hair in the early seasons, but brown instead of blond) and had the constant shadow of a beard and mustache, that along with the largest, heaviest damn looking, bible. Anyone had ever seen in their whole damn lives. which had been his constant friend and companion for as long as anyone could remember.

His eyes didn't lie about the insane part either, least everyone was pretty sure he was insane, although Randy and his uncle had their doubts about that, he'd shown that he could be quite rational in times of stress, and had proven himself to be quite the marksman, he was also quite fearless,

Randy remembered a time of when a whole army of Antlions had been charging towards them, everyone had been screaming some sort of swear word at the Antlions, everyone except Preacher who had simply stood there calmly picking off Antlions with his sniper rifle, and quietly quoting scripture at them.

No one knew for sure what his name was, and since it seemed to be his main profession, right there next to Combine Sharp shooter. People just decided to call him Preacher.

And all five of them had been friends or at least partners for over a year now and aside from, the occasional fight between Jameson and Wayne it was a pretty stable partnership, that kept Randy and Jameson safe, and Wayne Jennifer and Preacher with well maintained weapons, courtesy of Jameson.

"As long me and Jenny are with you two you got nothing to worry about, Ramirez knows better than to fuck with us."

"Oh yes I feel so much safer, now that I have a drug addled prankster, a Blood thirsty Psychopath, and a religious maniac who would go up against an army of Antlions alone and unarmed, on my side."

Wayne Sneered at Haze "do you know anyone who would do a better job of protecting you against the Combine? Cause if you do please inform us, and me and my Dear sister will gladly leave you to your own designs, and go find some other engineer in need of our protection, someone like Dexter perhaps, I'm sure that he would, appreciate our protection word is that those combine officers are getting pretty annoyed with him."

if ever the Combine get ticked off at me and Jen they'll have to send like some of their like super mega alien soldiers, cause they won't find a human force anywhere on this planet that'll go up against my dear sister here." he said cooing that last bit, and giving said sister deep passionate kiss on the lips, and placing his hand over her left breast.

Jameson Haze really didn't like the terrible Threesome as he'd coined them, having a friendship, or at least an acquaintanceship with them had been all Randy's idea,

Randy nudged his friend gently but firmly "Jameson you are drawing attention to us, and I can see Ramirez over there sizing the two if us up, with Jenny on our side we don't even exist in the same dimension as him, but if she's against us w-"

Jameson cut him off "If she's against us we never even existed!" he said a hysterical edge in his voice. Randy sighed Though Jameson would never admit it, Randy knew that he was terrified of the three, which was quite understandable.

"Look Jameson we need these three on our side now just settle down."

Jameson looked at him for moment, then after a long calming breath, finally relaxed.

"Thanks man." he breathed. Randy smiled at him. "What are friends for?" he asked, holding up his hand, for a high five.  
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**So what do you THINK! is it Goodd, its an old fic of mine, please do Review, PELASE! Reviews are The ESSENCE of MY !**


	3. Chapter 3

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_**Hello fans of Sole Survivor, i am just writing this little note to inform you that, i have not forgotten this fic, and do intend to write more chapters. but i am currently busy, with a series of horror fics, i'm writing so its probably gonna be a while. kay.**_


	4. Chapter 4

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"Are they ready yet, Wolfe?" asked Salvo Gruffly. He had little to no love for the tall athletic figure in a lab coat before him, for several reasons. One was that the man was an arrogant son of a bitch, two was that he was quite possibly the most insane individual Salvo had ever had the misfortune to come across,

Three was that he was fucking goth, with all the makeup and clothes to go with it, dressed as usual in black athletic shoes, black rustler jeans and a black t-shirt.

And 4 was of course that along with everything else he was a fucking drug addict, no more than that, he was fucking drug cesspool, the man did every drug imaginable under the sun, and those that had to be grown special in dark secluded places,

And 5 was that the man just plain creeped him out,

6 he couldn't fire the man, because he was just flat out too fucking smart, to fire, despite his drug abuse, with an eye popping IQ of over 210 points.

And 7 the man knew it, and so didn't feel in the least bit threatened by him.

Valentine Wolfe stood about 6'1 was in his mid twenties, athletically built and yet somehow darkly delicate, like a hothouse flower rudely torn from its usual habitat.

His face was long and thin and more than fashionably pale, and his shock of jet black hair fell to his shoulders in curls and ringlets. Heavy mascara highlighted his overbright eyes, and a painted crimson smile hid his feelings from one and all. He had an artist's hands, all long slender fingers and languorous gestures, and they fluttered about his throat in moments of excitement like startled doves in the night.  
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If Salvo could have managed it, he would have had the man, shot, but unfortunately he was the genius who came up with the Magistrate gear, to begin with, and on top of that was working on some sort of Nanotech that could theoretically make a man, unkillable possibly even immortal… and as much as Salvo disliked him, he was Salvo's best hope for getting Randy out of City 17 alive.  
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"Almost, don't rush a miracle worker my dear Commander, or you'll end up with a lousy set of miracles. Not a threat Salvo dearest, but more rather a statement of fact." he grinned showing off his perfect white teeth, the bastard. He paused in his tinkering with something complex looking, to pull out a silver pill box, and removed a small patch and a tube full of some white powder, he stuck the patch to the vein in his neck, and shoved the tube up his nose, and snorted the substance up into his nostrils loudly.

Salvo looked away in disgust. To think things had gotten so bad, that he had to rely on junkies to get him what he wanted.

Salvo sighed and rubbed at his temples, if only the renascence cascade hadn't happened, if only things had stayed the way they had, then he could be a happy grandfather by now, with a safe and secure desk job, and lunatics like Valentine and doctor Breen would have been locked away in dark dank holes, never to be seen again.

He sighed and glanced over to look at what the mad scientist was up to now. And saw the man picking over what looked to be a pile of silver ants… millions of them. "What the heck are those?" he asked curiously.

"Nanites my dear sir, they were perfectly functional up to oh about thirteen seconds ago, I was having them put together this one piece of machinery when they all just stopped, out of power I would imagine, I still haven't found a good way to power them yet, least outside of the human body that is, inside is another matter entirely, though!" he grinned.

"They seem to have a fondness for cocaine, perhaps if you would, ease up on that pesky little rule you put down on the troops, I could-"

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Salvo cut him off, "NO! No drugs! God knows I didn't want this job, but I have it anyway, and I damn well am gonna do my best at it, and so the answer to what your about to propose remains the same, as it was last time, No Drugs, I want my troops to be clear headed, its bad enough I allow you to experiment with your… substances, on them." Salvo hissed in disgust, and lit a cigar.  
"Now are those suits gonna be ready any time soon, I'd like my troops to be young and fit whenever it comes time to test them out, not old and bent over in wheel chairs." he growled.

"Oh the suits are done, and have been done for the past twenty minutes or so, are they what you've been pestering me about? Cause if so, you really should specify next time, just what it is you wish to know is done, it can be very confusing down here, so many projects, so many rules to abide by, it really is quite a handful you know, perhaps if I had a few more assistants other than the beautiful as ever Audrey over there," Valentine nodded to the leggy brunette hunched over a console, who with her long and thin heart shaped face, pale skin, and slightly underweight body, wasn't really beautiful, but more pretty, and whose best feature was her really fine set of legs.  
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"All that she really wishes to do most of the time that she's down here besides work, is fuck, and enjoyable as that may be, it is time consuming, and as you have mentioned many times before, time is short."

Salvo tried to hold his temper, and after a moment, when he was sure he wasn't about to snap the young joker's neck like the thin little twig it was, said, "I'll see what I can do, now in the meantime since those suits are done, I'd appreciate it, if you would personally brief the men that are going to be testing those suits out, as to just what their going to be wearing, and how it works, think you can do that?"  
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Valentine Grinned, "Of course my good sir, now if you'll excuse me, I must find my dear sister, Abby, she's late for work, and while her intelligence may be on par with my own she's… a bit wild you might say, and so does enjoy to explore her… sexuality."

Salvo shivered, he knew just how wild Abbateen Morrigan Wolfe was, and as infuriating as Valentine could be, at least he knew where the limits were, Abbateen didn't, she had fucked just about everyone in the citadel at one time or another, including Valentine if rumors were to be believed, she'd even came to Salvo one dark dreary night, and had sex with him while he slept, and enjoyable while the experience might have been, There were rules, and lines, that just shouldn't be crossed.

So Salvo left the Wolfe and his assistant to their dark works. He had other important things to attend to, things that just couldn't wait, for the likes of The Grinning Psychopath, AKA Valentine Wolfe, and his dearest little miracle working experiments, Things like getting a private rebel strike team set up.

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